Stef Ann Holm by Lucy Back (books to read in your 30s TXT) 📗

She still had his card in her purse, never having called him. She’d found out on her own when to sign Jason up for baseball at the high school, so she had no reason to contact Drew personally. Although that card had burned a hole through her wallet leather. She’d taken it out a few times, looked at the script and the phone number, then slid it back inside.

As he strode onto the field, she couldn’t help admiring him. He was a very handsome man, one who drew her undivided attention. Tall and broad, he filled out a polo shirt and khaki pants like nobody’s business. He wore a newer, blue baseball cap, his eyes unreadable beneath the shade the bill provided. But his lips were in full sunlight, looking soft and wide. Made to capture and settle over a woman’s mouth. It thrilled her to think about what they’d feel like next to her own.

“So what do you think?”

Lucy snapped out of her decadent thoughts, turned to Susan and blurted, “About what?”

“About Red Duck.”

Wayward fantasies about Drew kissing her evaporated—thank goodness. They had no place in her mind. Why she even contemplated how his mouth would feel over hers distressed her. She was far too sensible to fall for a man with Drew’s shameless charms. “I like it, so far. It seems like a nice place to bring up kids.”

“It is. I’ve lived here all my life. My father bought property back in the seventies. It’s the only way Dave and I could afford to build.”

Lucy had wondered. “What does your husband do?”

“He’s in landscaping. He’s quite busy.”

“I’d imagine so with the resort and golf course expanding.”

Whistles blew from the field as the boys were taken into groups for practice. Lucy tried to keep her gaze equally on each of her sons, but found her eyes straying toward Drew.

Sitting up on a bleacher and having a full view of him almost felt wicked. She could watch him for hours. Lucy hated to admit she was just as infatuated with him as the entire town. What was it about the man that got so many people to smile? She took a harder look at him.

He walked with a masculine stride she couldn’t help but notice—relaxed and void of arrogance. He stood out in a crowd because of his height, which was perhaps about six feet four. But what was it? What was it beyond the superficial? She couldn’t peg it, not at this moment. But it was on the tip of her tongue, like a thought or a memory one went after that hung around the edges, illusive and niggling. So Lucy stopped trying to figure it out and settled in to watch the tryouts.

But a long moment later, the answer hit her. The reason Drew caught her attention was that he wasn’t looking for it. He was secure enough in himself that he didn’t try to get women’s attention. Women went out of their way to get his.

And, she realized, she was no different. She wanted it, too.

The covered dugout smelled like paint; the plywood bench was cluttered with athletic bags and discarded tennis shoes. Bats and mitts were strewn on the concrete floor. The boys suited up in gear and wore turf shoes with rubber darts. Water jugs with last names printed in marker were thrown into the mess. Getting kids up this early was almost like having them play hungover. They wanted to be in the game, loved it, but more than likely, most had been up half the night playing video games.

Drew gave them a little intro speech, then told them to hit the field and warm up.

He tucked a clipboard underneath his arm, assessed the kids who were returning and those who were new. This year, he hoped the seniors would make it to the play-offs. He had his eye on Jason.

The kid wore attitude like it was a shirt—untucked. Nothing seemed to get him excited or interested, and he wasn’t taking practice swings like the other boys.

Walking over to him, Drew stopped just shy of getting in his face. “Do you want to be here or not?”

Jason looked up through slitted eyes, the bill of his cap making his hair seem longer across his forehead.

“Not really.”

“Then walk your butt off my field and don’t waste my time.”

His upper lip curled. “I wish I could, but my mom’s making me.”

Drew glanced up at the bleachers, noticed Lucy sitting next to Nutter’s parents. He allowed himself scant seconds to watch the sunlight picking up red in the brunette strands of her hair. He couldn’t ignore the pull he felt toward her. He hadn’t been able to pinpoint why, he just felt it. Had from the moment he first saw her, even with Jacquie right next to him.

Staring back at Jason, Drew growled, “Well, then you better do your best not to make my team. Swing and miss, run like you’ve got rocks in your shoes. Make it good, because if you’re going to be a loser, you better act like one.”

Then Drew focused on the other players, turning his back on Jason Carpenter. Drew felt his blood pressure throb in his head. He didn’t like getting in a kid’s face, but looking at Jason reminded him of himself at that age, when he’d thought life had shit on him, too. A part of him wanted to take the boy by the shoulders and shake him. To tell him that baseball could make him lose the chip on his shoulder.

Playing ball was a good outlet to get a lot of steam out of their system when they were filled with resentment. That boy had more self-imposed injustice in him than Drew had seen in a long time. Maybe he had a right to; Drew didn’t know the whole story. But somewhere along the way, that boy had been victimized by a bad parental call, or a bad parent. Period. And seeing how